Page 64 of Forecasting the Forward

“No, I’d like you to take a gander at a guess.”

“Two.”

Jacob laughs. “I’m thinking at least four.”

“Jacob, I don’t think I’ve come four times when I’m masturbating, much less with someone else —” I lose my train of thought when he pushes inside me, and that piercing slides right across my G-spot. My head drops back to rest on his shoulder as I’m completely overcome by the wave of pleasure that hits me. When he slides in again, he simultaneously pinches my clit and one nipple, and I immediately come.

“That’s one,” he grunts. He continues to manipulate my body, and I am a quivering, sweaty mess. Orgasms two and three are of the same caliber, and I’m close to passing out. The intensity of the barbell sliding along my G-spot is unlike anything I could ever imagine.

“Jacob, no more,” I murmur, unsure if my voice is loud enough to be heard. Honestly, I may have only said that in my head.

“You’ve got one more in you. You’re coming with me this time,” he responds, his voice strained as his thrusts pick up in speed. He grabs my neck to turn my head, kissing me harshly as his other hand finds my clit again. I scream into his mouth as I come, then completely black out.

“Earth to Becca. Come on, darlin’.I need to see those pretty eyes.”

Eyelids slowly opening, I peer up at a serious Jacob. “What happened?”

He lets out a relieved breath. “You passed out. Scared the hell out of me, Spitfire.”

“I thought you said you knew when a woman was about to pass out,” I murmur.

“It’s different because it’s you,” he responds quietly.

I stretch my arms above my head, and notice my body hums with pleasure. “I’m not even a little bit sorry.”

“I’m not surprised. Told you I could get four out of you. We’ll have to work up to six, but I think we can do it. I’m more than willing to practice,” he says, a cheeky glint in his eye.

“What a gentleman,” I tease. A muffled bark sounds from the other side of my bedroom door, and I gasp. “How long have we been in here? I should walk Thunder.”

“How about I walk him while you pack up some things for the two of you?” Jacob offers.

“Oh, I assumed you’d want me to move in sometime later. Not today,” I say nervously.

“We’re both off today, so it makes the most sense to get you over there and somewhat settled. I have to leave for another away trip in a couple days, and I want you in my building before then.”

“Why?”

“Security is tight there, and I have a parking garage that’ll be safer for you. There’s even a dog run and park for Thunder on one of the roofs.”

“Seriously? On a roof? I’d be a nervous wreck on a high rise roof with a dog,” I confess. Thunder is my baby. I’d be inconsolable if something happened to him.

“No, it’s on the third floor, I think. It’s above the building pool and gym. Thunder will like it. Some of my teammates that live in the building have dogs, and they all say it’s nice and convenient. Really great for winter storms too.”

I’m quiet as we both get off the bed and dress. Too many questions stream through my head. If and when this ends, how does it play out? Should I keep my apartment as a precaution?How will Thunder handle moving? Am I really in danger in my building, or is Jacob just being a little overdramatic about my brother?

“Darlin’,” Jacob says softly, sliding an arm around my waist. “I want you with me. You’re my wife. I want to wake up every morning next to you, and cook dinner with you whenever I can. I can’t wait to see your makeup cluttering the bathroom counter, and have your shoes next to mine at the door. Please.”

God, he’s so sweet.

I’m not sure what I did to deserve a man like Jacob, but I don’t want to give him back.

As Thunderand I make our way down to the street, I realize this is the first time I’ve ever walked a dog.

When we get outside the building, Thunder looks up at me in confusion. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, dude. Lead the way.”

Evidently, that worked, because Thunder launches to the west, dragging me with him. The walk takes much longer than I anticipated, due to stopping at every pole along the way so Thunder can sniff and then mark his territory. Didn’t the neighbor say she had just walked him? Where is he storing all of this fluid?

“You can’t have any more pee in there,” I murmur as he squats, but then I realize what he’s actually doing. “Shit. I’m supposed to clean this up, aren’t I?”

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